Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Writing

when i spit
i think of the pit
the fire that's lit
and all of my wit
when i write it down
reverses the frown
still a clown
who wears a crown
let the words flow
up high down low
through the river they row
conquers my foe
when its done
its still fun
read under the sun
feel like i've won

No comments:

Post a Comment